


5 Times Peter Had Help From Tony

by parkeratheart



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: 5+1, 5+1 Things, 5+1 ficlet, Angst, Crying, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy, Hugs, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, I love doing 5+1 things, Peter Parker Feels, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker has PTSD, Poor Peter Parker, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad, Sadness, Sorry lots of crying again, Sort of happy ending, Suicide trigger warning, This is gonna be super super fluffy, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 16:05:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15777444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkeratheart/pseuds/parkeratheart
Summary: + the one time Tony had help from Peter





	1. Concrete Rubble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one will be short, but the others will be longer.  
> Love ya all <3

“I’m sorry, Pete,” Adrian Toomes said loudly. His voice echoed through the empty room.

The wingspan shot towards Peter again, cutting through some of the pillars supporting the roof. He easily flipped out of its way, confused as to why this guy was missing so much. “What are you talking about? That thing hasn’t even touched me yet!”

“True, but then again,” Adrian smiled, “I wasn’t really trying to.”

It suddenly clicked. The wingspan took out the past of the pillars. Peter’s head snapped up to be greeted by a couple tons of concrete and metal crashing down towards him. Peter threw his arms over his head and it all toppled down over top of him.

It took a couple minutes for him to come out of shock.

Dust floated everywhere, including inside the teenager’s lungs. The concrete rubble was pressed against his back, pinning him to the ground. Something heavy and metal was on top of it.

Peter cried out and ripped the cloth mask off his face. “Hello?” he shouted. “HELLO?!” Hot tears burned his eyes. Something sharp jabbed into the meat of his calf when he tried to move again. His eyes stung from all the dust and tears clouding them.

“Please, please I’m down here- I’m down . . . I’m stuck, I can’t- I can’t move . . .” Peter cried, raising his hand as if to signal anyone who could possibly be around to help him. But he was alone. He was alone and trapped under the roof of a concrete building.

A water pipe must have burst because something wet soaked into the sleeve of Peter’s pathetic homemade Spider-Man suit.

 _Deep breaths deep breaths,_ Peter tried to tell himself. _I need the other suit. I need Karen I need . . ._

Then his eyes locked on the black and white lenses of the mask. The water he threw it in reflected half of his face against the mask’s, and suddenly the voice of Tony Stark rang through his head.

_“If you’re nothing without this suit, then you shouldn’t have it.”_

What he said made sense.

How could he be Spider-Man if he couldn’t get out of this?

“Come on, Peter,” he whispered to himself, pressing his hands against the concrete pinning him down.

No, not Peter.

Peter was a scared high-schooler who got pushed around a lot and never fought back. Peter never fought super-villains. Peter was never strong.

“Come on, Spider-Man.” The concrete started to move.

“Come on, Spider-Man!” he repeated, louder. It started to lift. The pain in his biceps was rough, but the concrete was moving. “COME ON, SPIDER-MAN!”

Peter stood on his feet, forcing his legs to extend, moving the concrete with him. He let out a cry of either pain or confidence. He wasn’t sure, but it seemed to work, because he was free. The metal and concrete fell to the side.

Peter gasped for breath and rested his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

 _I am something without the suit,_ he realized. _I’m Spider-Man._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whenever I watch this scene in Spider-Man Homecoming I feel sooooo bad for poor Petey. Lol I've written versions of this a bajillion times, but oh well.
> 
> Comments and kudos are always amazing <3


	2. Terrors

_He didn’t make it out._

_He was still down there, with concrete pushing him down to the ground and jabbing painfully into his back._

_“You’re a failure,” said Uncle Ben, standing in front of him. “Look at you, pathetic.”_

_“Uncle Ben . . . please . . . help,” Peter choked out, reaching his arm up._

_Uncle Ben just shook his head. “Why would I help someone who deserves to die?”_

_Peter’s eye widened and suddenly the water soaking his stupid suit and the dust in the air made it impossible to breath. Peter grasped at his throat and watched Ben turn and walk away. “Ben, please!”_

_“Peter!” The words came out of Ben’s mouth, but it wasn’t his voice. “Peter!”_

“Peter!” A rough shaking from calloused hands jerked the teenager awake. He groped at his sleeve where it was wet in the dream. It was only wet from the boy’s sweat that also lingered around his hairline. “Peter.”

It was Tony.

“Hey, kid, you with me?” he said gently, loosening his grip on Peter’s arms.

“Y-yeah, I think so,” Peter mumbled, bringing his shaky hands to his hair. Tony grabbed his hands.

“Holy shit, kid, you’re shaking so hard,” Tony whispered. Peter wasn’t sure what triggered him, but he started to cry. “Hey,” said Tony softly. “What did you dream about?”  
“Something- something happened . . . to- to me,” Peter sobbed, burying his face into his palms. Yes, something happened. And somehow, Ben managed to make his way into the night terror and remind him what a failure he was.

“What happened to you?” Tony asked, sitting down on the bed next to the trembling teenager. He placed his arm around Peter’s shoulders in a comforting gesture. It worked.

Peter’s breathing shallowed.

“It’s- it’s stupid,” Peter sniveled. “Doesn’t matter.”

_“Yes,_ it does,” Tony insisted. “I won’t judge you. I’ve had my fair share of nightmares.”

Peter roughly wiped his tears away with the back of his hand. “You- you remember the- the flying . . . flying vulture guy?”

Tony nodded. “Adrian Toomes, yeah.”

“When- when you took away my- my suit, I-I still went after him,” Peter said shakily. “I-I had to use my . . . my homemade one from before Berlin. That’s not the point. I went after him. The- the building was mostly concrete with . . . with some metal. It was supported by—” he nearly choked on his own words, “—by big concrete pillars.” He twisted the edge of his blanket like it would twist away all the thoughts in his head.

“Support pillars,” Tony repeated. “Okay. Then what?”

“I-I didn’t get what he was doing. He kept missing and just destroying them,” Peter whispered. “But he- he wasn’t aiming for me with his wing things. He took out all the pillars and then . . .” Peter started to cry again. “And then the whole building came down on me.”

“Holy shit,” Tony breathed, pulling Peter into his chest for a tight hug.

“It- it hurt so much,” Peter cried as Tony carded his finger through his hair, untangling any knots that formed in his sleep. “I- I couldn’t move and it hurt and it was dark and I couldn’t breathe from the dust and—"

“Stop,” Tony said firmly, and Peter realized he was hyperventilating, shaking in the billionaire’s hold and sobbing into his shirt. “It’s alright, kid. I’m here. You’re okay.” Tony rested his chin atop Peter’s head. “How did you get out?”

“It’s going to sound insane, but I remembered what you said after the ferry thing,” Peter sniffled. “Do you- do you remember?”

“ ‘If you’re nothing without this suit, hen you shouldn’t have it’, right?”

Peter nodded. “I- I got out. Lifted it.”

“The building?”

“I had to.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“For taking the suit away,” Tony said. “Your AI could have told me you were in trouble.”

“Karen,” Peter corrected. Ton looked down at him blankly. “My- my AI’s name is Karen. I, uh, named her, because I felt bad for just calling her ‘Suit Lady’ so I named her.” Stop babbling. “And, uh, it’s okay. I- I forgive you.”

Tony just nodded. “And you’re not nothing without the suit. You’re Spider-Man, with or without it.”

_I’m Spider-Man._

That’s what he thought after pushing the rubble off him. And he was.

_Spider-Man._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares are a common thing to write about, but they're fun so yayy.
> 
> The fluffiness is realllllllll.
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated <3


	3. You Adore Me

“Karen, could you call Mr. Stark, please?” Peter choked out weakly.

“Peter, it seems you are in distress—”

“Please, just call him, I need help!”

“Okay, Peter.” The holographic blue ‘calling’ appeared in the corner of Peter’s vision through his mask. Then it quickly said ‘connecting’.

“Peter?” Tony said. “What’s up?”

“H-hey, Mr. Stark,” Peter said. “So, I uh, may or may not have been, uh, shot?”

Pause.

“Excuse me, what?!”

Peter clutched his side, that section of the suit becoming crimson instead of bright red. “It was just my side, the fleshy part. There was a mugging . . . I had to jump in front of a lady or else she’d be shot and she most likely didn’t have my healing so—”

“For God’s sake, Parker, I’m coming,” Tony said. “On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?”

“You sound like Baymax,” Peter joked.

“Peter!”

“Okay, okay, like a five maybe?”

“That’s definitely an eight, okayyyy,” Tony muttered. “Just stay there, I’m coming.”

“I could get there myself,” Peter suggested. “It’s not that big of a deal really.”

“It’s a big deal that you got fucking _shot!”_ Tony exclaimed and the whir of the Iron Man suit in flight filled Peter’s ears. “I’m almost there.”

Peter grunted softly in pain. It was starting to get worse. He tried to stop the flow of blood by ripping off his mask and pressing it against the wound. He gritted his teeth to hold back a cry of pain at the contact. Crimson red soaked through the mask. Peter took in heavy shallow breaths and kneeled on the roof he was currently atop.

“You’re good, Peter,” he whispered to himself in a weak voice. “It’s just pain. You’re good.”

Then the familiar swoosh indicated Tony Stark had arrived. “Kid!” he said, removing his faceplate. “Sentry mode.” The billionaire stepped out of the suit and helped Peter to his feet. “Hey, buddy.”

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” Peter said weakly, squeezing the mask in his hands. “How are you?”

“Really really good, really good,” Tony said sarcastically, prying Peter’s fingers away from his wound. “Jeez, kid. Does it have an exit wound?”

“Yeah,” Peter said. “I’m fine, really. I can just heal.”

“I’m getting you to Bruce,” Tony said, bowling right over him and stepped into the Iron Man suit. “Come here, I’m gonna carry you.”

When Peter didn’t move, the robotic suit stepped forward. Tony slipped his arm under Peter’s knees and Peter’s back rested against the other one. Tony pulled Peter into his arms and shot off for the Compound. With the speed Tony was going at, they would be there in about ten minutes.

Peter took in shaky breaths and covered the wound with his hands. _Ow ow ow._

A painful ten minutes later, Peter was lying on a bed with a bandage wrapped tightly around his stomach and tears of pain in his eyes that he refused to let loose. Tony was sitting on the edge of the bed, fiddling with his sunglasses.

“I can’t believe you got shot,” Tony muttered, shaking his head. “If that was any further in . . .”

“I’m fine,” Peter said. “See?” He sat up in the bed and stifled a wince that wanted to come on. “All good. It doesn’t even hurt that much.” _Uh, maybe a six out of ten?_

“You could have died,” Tony said, pressing his palms over his eyes. “Don’t scare me like that. This old heart can’t take that.”

Peter giggled. “I’m fine. I’m Spider-Man.”

Tony shook his head but a smile tugged at his lips. “I guess so. And it’s cool of you to save someone like that, but you scared the living daylights out of me.”

“Just say it,” Peter said, a smile coming over his face.

Tony looked over at him and raised his eyebrows.

“You love me,” Peter said with a playful grin on his face.

“I do not!”

“You adore me.”

“I—”

“You can’t live without me.”

“Okay, fine, I adore you,” Tony laughed, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Happy?”

Peter laughed and immediately winced as it sent of burst of pain through his side.

_He adores me,_ he thought with triumph. _I must be his son now in his eyes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. That sucked. The next ones hopefully won't.
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated <3


	4. It's Not Okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't know much about triggers for suicide, so idk if there are some in this chapter. Read at your own risk, i guess.

It was 2:25 pm. Five minutes until school was out when the announcement was made.

 _"Students,"_ the principal said and everyone stopped to listen. _"We just received some devastating news about a student who once went to this school, Liz Allen."_

Peter froze.

 _"Liz Allen took her life,"_ the principal said.

Tears sprung into his eyes and Peter covered his mouth with both hands. “No,” he breathed, his legs wanting to give away. “No no no no!”

_“Her body was found on the floor of the kitchen with a bottle of pills next to her,” the principal continued._

_“A terrible tragedy this is,” the principal said in a sad voice._

Peter's mind became foggy, and the bell rang a second later.

While he walked to the tower, the fog was still there. He couldn't think.

"Peter?" Tony's soft voice said once Peter reached the main floor. The man was watching the news.

"Tony, I . . ." Peter's legs finally did give away and he crashed to the floor, landing hard on his knees. "Liz . . . she . . . oh _God._ " 

Tony knelt in front of the teenager. "I know, kid. I know what happened."

This was when Peter lost it. He started crying hard and crumpled down to the floor even lower than before.

“Kid . . .” Soon Tony pulling him up from the ground, wrapping his arms around Peter, who buried his face into Tony’s shirt. “God, I’m sorry.” He reached for the TV remote and muted the program he was watching.

“It’s got to be because of me!” Peter cried. “I put her dad in jail! It has to be because of that!”

Tony shushed him gently and rested the side of his face against Peter’s head and rocked gently back and forth, stroking the teenager’s curls and gripping his shoulders.

 _I killed Liz,_ he thought over and over. _It’s my fault it’s my fault it’s my fault._

“I killed Liz!” Peter cried and sobbed into Tony’s chest. “I killed Liz.”

“You didn’t kill her,” Tony whispered gently. “It was her choice.”

“It was made because of me!” Peter nearly screamed, gripping the back of Tony’s shirt. “I killed Liz. I killed Liz!”

“You don’t know if it was because of that,” Tony said. “What if it was something else?”

The truth was, Peter didn’t want to imagine what else could cause such an amazing person to do that. It was easier to just blame himself and be done with it, not worrying about what ever the hell else might have happened. Horrible images flooded through Peter head which just made hm cry harder. Images of abuse or even . . . rape.

“It’s my fault,” Peter sniveled, his tears slowing down. Tony remained a firm hold.

“No, it isn’t,” Tony soothed. “You did the right thing, Peter.”

“No I didn’t!” Peter screamed, shoving away and standing up. He ran his fingers through his hair. “How the _fuck_ is causing my friend’s suicide the right thing, Tony?!” The man looked at him with an almost hurt expression. Hot tears rolled down Peter’s face, which he didn’t bother to wipe away. **“Tell me how!”**

“Peter, calm down,” Tony said quietly, taking a step towards him.

“I should have just never asked her to the dance,” Peter sobbed. He took off for his room and locked the door behind him.

His phone was nearly exploding with texts.

**Ned: Peter, please call me**

**MJ: Hey, Peter. Call me, okay?**

**Ned: Please call me dude. I’m worried about you**  
**Ned: Peter?**

**MJ: I’m so sorry, Peter**

**Ned: I’m sorry, Peter. Please please please call me.**

Seeing the texts made Peter want to burst into tears again. He tapped Ned’s contact with a shaky finger. He was about to press call when MJ’s contact picture popped up on the screen and the buttons to either decline or accept the call.

Peter stared at it for a second before pressing accept.

“Peter?” said MJ in a gentle voice that Peter didn’t know she possessed.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice breaking.

There was a beat of silence.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“No.” Tears streamed down his face again.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Alright, well I’m always around to talk, so call me when you want to,” MJ said.

“Th-thanks,” Peter sniveled. “I should probably call Ned. He’s- he’s been spamming me.”

“Okay, bye, Peter.”

Tears continued to pour down Peter’s face while he searched for Ned’s contact again and called him. Ned answered in two seconds.

There was a moment of pure silence from the both of them. “Oh my god,” Ned finally said.

“Yeah,” Peter whispered.

“I’m sorry, Peter,” Ned said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

“I think I caused it,” Peter sobbed without any shred of dignity. This was Ned. He could cry. “I- I think it happened because- because her dad is in jail and I put him in jail, Ned.”

“It’s not your fault,” Ned reassured.

Silence.

There was a knock on Peter’s door. “Peter?”

“I have to go, Ned,” Peter sighed. “Talk to you later, maybe?”

“Okay,” Ned said softly. “I’m sorry. Bye, Peter.”

“Peter?” Tony said from outside the door right as Peter ended his call with Ned. “Can I come in?”

“Yes,” Peter sniveled, and the door opened. Tony quickly closed the space between them and hugged Peter without hesitation. Peter threw his arms around his father-figure and started to cry hard again. Tony rubbed comforting circles on Peter’s back.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” Tony whispered.

“I know,” Peter sniffled. “It’s okay.”

It wasn’t.

It really fucking wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was SOOO SAD. 
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated. <3


	5. Liz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourself.

Liz Allen’s funeral was exactly a week after she died.

But she didn’t die like she should have.

Peter’s lip started to tremble when he laid eyes on the church. Everyone was wearing black. It looked kind of like in _Moana_ in her dream where everything turned black.

Happy parked the car across the street from the church.

Tony straightened out his black Tom Ford suit and adjusted his tie while Peter sat shaking. The billionaire’s eyes drifted to Peter’s form and his expression immediately softened.

“Hey, you good?”

Peter shook his head. “I’m- I’m scared.”

Tony smiled sadly and clapped his hand on Peter’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “I know this sucks, kid. I really do.”

“I’ve been to funerals before,” Peter said softly. “This feels different.” He didn’t wait for Tony’s response. “It’s different because she- she did this to herself and I’m the cause of it.”

“Peter, we’ve been through his, it’s not your fault,” Tony said neutrally.

Peter nodded like he agreed, but he didn’t. His eyes were dry. He felt numbed emotionally. Sort of like when the TV fuzzes out and it’s that white and black screen with all the dots moving all over the place.

“Come on, let’s go,” Tony urged, removing his hand from Peter’s shoulder and opening the door to his side. Peter reached out to do the same. The brisk November air hit his face with a whoosh. A light breeze chilled the air a little more. All the leaves to the trees were either shriveled and brown on the branches or on the ground.

Peter stopped when he spotted the Decathlon team crowded around the entrance of the church. They were all dressed formally, even MJ. It felt odd to see her in fancy-dress.

“What is it?” Tony asked, stopping next to him.

“Nothing,” Peter said and continued walking. _It's just that they're all best friends with the girl who I caused the death of._

Ned was the first to notice him. He flashed a tiny smile and waved. Peter returned the same smile and walked up the steps to greet everyone. He was instantly pulled into a hug from Ned, who smelled like men’s cologne. “Hey, Peter,” he said quietly.

Peter wrapped his arms around his best friend. “Hey, man.”

When they broke free, MJ quickly enveloped him in a short but sweet hug. “Peter, I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Whilst hugging her, Peter made eye contact with Tony, who mouthed, ‘I’m gonna go inside. Meet you in there.’ Peter nodded and gave him a small smile.

Tears built up in Peter’s eyes, which he usually would have been ashamed of, but everyone else had tears in their eyes, too. Even MJ.

“You gonna sit with us?” Abraham asked Peter.

“Um . . .” Peter looked at Tony waiting inside. “I-I have to sit with someone.” The truth was, he wanted to sit with Tony, since Tony knew he was Spider-Man and he knew how badly he screwed up. He just felt guilty with his friends. He felt guilty that they didn’t know what he had done. That he basically killed their mutual friend.

“That’s okay,” MJ assured.

“Thanks.” Peter nodded. “I’m gonna go inside now. Bye, guys.”

A got a couple nods and waves and one or two ‘Bye, Peters’ before he slipped inside, finding Tony. The billionaire smiled and him and they walked down the aisle to take their seats. They chose a row near the front but closer to the middle. Peter took the section closest to the aisle.

When the funeral started, Peter already felt like crying.

Liz’s mom stood at the front speaking with tears spilling over her eyes and dripping off her copper-skinned chin. Peter recorded the whole thing on his phone to listen to at home.

Peter felt his bottom lip quivering through the weight of the contained tears in his eyes. Tony comfortingly wrapped an arm around his shoulders and Peter leaned into the touch. He finally started crying when Liz’s mom neared the end of her eulogy, talking about how grateful she was that she got to be Liz’s mother and how much she missed her. He flicked his eyes around the rows until finding the one with the Decathlon team. Cindy had her palms over her eyes and MJ had her hand on her shoulder. She was obviously. Ned kept rubbing his hand across his face; probably to remove tears. Everyone else was almost completely still.

After the funeral was over, Liz’s casket was buried. Everyone got to throw a handful of dirt into the hole. A lone, silent tear traveled down MJ’s cheek when she threw hers in. Ned was practically sobbing.

“You don’t have to, kid,” Tony said quietly.

“Yes, I do,” Peter said, scooping up his handful. He imagined what was going through Liz’s head before she died. What horrible things there must have been in there. He imagined seeing Liz on the floor of her kitchen with the pills next to her and how her mother must have reacted. He allowed tears to pour down his face as he tossed his handful into the hole.

Once everyone was done, the grave-keeper filled the hole by himself. Peter cried silently into Tony’s shoulder while the man hugged him tightly to his chest.

An hour later, Peter, Tony, and the Decathlon team were the only ones still there.

“I’m going to go to the car now,” Tony said. “Meet me there when you’re ready. Take as long as you need.”

“’Kay,” Peter whispered, and Tony strode away.

Ned immediately walked over to his side. Tears stained his warm-toned face and his waterlines were red. The two collided in a hug and started sobbing. Peter wasn’t sure if he was crying because Ned was and vice versa, but they both cried for a while.

Upon breaking free, Peter wiped his face and removed his tears. Ned did the same.

MJ smiled sadly and stood in front of them, fiddling with the sleeve of her black blazer. There really wasn’t much to say.

“You look nice,” Peter said to MJ.

_(“Yeah, you look . . . really nice.”)_

That was what he had said to Liz on Homecoming night. The night where he started the cause of her death. It made Peter want to cry his eyes out again.

“Thanks,” she said softly. Her curly hair hung freely down her shoulders. She was wearing the slightest bit of makeup. A little concealer under her eyes and a light eyeshadow look on her eyes. Mascara covered her eyelashes. “I just can’t believe she’s really gone,” she said breathlessly.

“Me too,” Ned agreed. Their voices were quiet. Almost a whisper.

Peter just nodded, staring at the ground.

_Yeah, she’s gone._   
_And she’s gone because of me._

 

 

Peter took it upon himself to visit Adrian Toomes in prison the day after the funeral.

Adrian sat down in his seat and put the phone to his ear. “Hey, Peeko.”

“It’s sad how you couldn’t make it to the funeral.” Peter wasn’t lying. It was very sad that her own dad couldn’t make it, because he was in prison.

“Yeah,” Adrian said sadly. “You went, I assume?”

Peter nodded. Then he remembered. _The recording._ “I, uh, have a recording of Mrs. Allen’s eulogy.” Adrian’s bright blue eyes widened. “Do you want to listen to it?”

“Yes,” said the prisoner, rapping on the table impatiently. “Please.”

Peter nodded and opened the voice memos app on his phone and found the one called ‘Mrs. Allen’s Eulogy’. He pressed the speaker of his phone against the prison one and hit play.

They listened to the whole thing without a single word.

Peter refrained from crying, but Adrian could not hold back a couple tears that ran down his face and Peter felt an awful twist in his heart. Sympathy for The Vulture? He couldn’t believe it.

When the recording ended, Adrian wiped the back of his free hand across his face. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “I can see why she liked you. I really can.”

Peter smiled sadly. “Thanks, Mr. Toomes.”

“Thanks for recording that,” Adrian said. “I needed to hear it.”

“You could make a eulogy, too,” Peter suggested. “Like, no one has to hear it, unless Mrs. Allen comes to visit you.” Shut up, of course she’s going to come visit him. “But since you couldn’t come . . .” He trailed off.

“That’s a good idea,” Adrian said after a moment. “Thanks, Peter.”

“Yup.”

Silence.

“I should go,” Peter said. “Bye, Mr. Toomes.”

Adrian pressed his mouth in a thin line and placed the prison phone back in its original spot. He raised his hand to wave goodbye.

Peter did the same thing with his mouth and exited the prison.

 _That was . . . really really sad,_ Peter thought with the same twist in his heart. _Poor Adrian._

Again, _sympathy?_ It was sort of hard to comprehend, but on the Uber ride back home, Peter understood. And he would miss Liz Allen forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now. I know Peter blames himself for Liz's death. I'm not gonna touch on it really anymore in this story, since there's only one chapter left, but I'm gonna give you a brief couple of reasons on why she died.
> 
> 1\. yes, her dad is in prison, and he's going to be for a long long time.  
> 2\. something bad happened to her (i'm gonna let your imaginations go wild here)
> 
> So yeah. Sorry for this super super sad chapter.  
> Comments and kudos are amazing. Each comment makes me day. <3


	6. Blades

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay real suicide trigger warning here. Sorry sorry sorry. (has been edited a little since the release date)

Tony knew just how much Liz Allen’s suicide impacted Peter.

He was sleeping less and eating less. The latter was a bit of a deal because since the spider bite, Peter ate and liked to eat a lot. The kid was chronically pushing away plates once he’d eaten a couple bites.

Tony was guilty of this himself.

After his parents died, he was sleep deprived and didn’t eat a lot. But Peter had already lost his parents and two other important people of his life. And he felt responsible for both of them. The billionaire knew Peter needed him.

Then this happened.

 

 

_“Boss, there is an incoming video from Mr. Parker,” FRIDAY said in her robotic voice._

_“Play it,” Tony said to the AI with a shrug._

_“Mr. Stark,” croaked Peter’s voice in the footage. The sound of running bathtub water echoed around the room in the recording. “I’m- I’m so sorry.” In the video, Peter was holding a blade in a shaky hand. He was sitting on the edge of the bathtub. “I can’t do this anymore.”_

_“Don’t you fucking dare,” Tony whispered, his eyes bulging out of his head._

_“I love you, but I’ve already caused the deaths of so many people,” Peter’s voice continued. “So, I’m sorry, but you’ll be much better off without me. You’ll see.” He placed the recording device on the edge of the bathtub and the water stopped running. Peter slipped into the water and without hesitation, ran the blade along his inner wrists, wincing at the pain. He drew four lines on each wrist._

_“I love you, Mr. Stark. Good-bye. Karen, stop the recording and send it to Mr. Stark in half an hour,” Peter said._

_Then the video ended._

_Tony never ran as fast as he did to get to the bathroom, sprinting into the elevator to get to Peter's room, heart racing. "Speed up this goddamn elevator as fast as possible!" Tony barked at FRIDAY and he grabbed the silver handle. The speed increased by about 300% and he was quickly at the penthouse and dashing down towards Peter's room._

_The flung open the door and his heart sank when he saw the bathroom light on and the door closed. He could feel his heart pounding in his throat as he banged on the door. "Peter!" he yelled. "Peter, open up!" Tony smashed his fist against the door as hard as he could, having the door splinter under his fist. He continued to do so until he created a hole in the door. It hurt his fist, it hurt a lot, and blood was starting to run down towards his arm, but the pain wasn't the slightest bit of Tony's concern._

_He reached through the hole, unlocked the door, and threw it open._

_Tony's heart dropped._

_The exact image of the video was displayed right in front of him, the colour of the bathtub water a dark crimson red._

_But worst of all, Peter Parker was lying directly in the center of it, the source of the colour that water should never be._

_"No, no no no," Tony muttered, yanking the kid out of the water and drawing him into his arms. The four lines on each wrist were no longer spilling blood._

_Tony gritted his teeth as a loud sob ripped through him, followed by outrageous sobs, and he held Peter's lifeless form to his chest, saying he was sorry over and over, sobbing his heart out._

 

 

Tony jolted up in his bed, sweating soaking his pajamas and hairline and tears streaming down his face. His heart seemed to be going a billion miles an hour as he threw off the covers and stumbled towards Peter’s room, using the wall to support himself. Upon making contact with the doorknob, Tony almost ripped it off its base as he threw open the door.

Peter lay on his bed with his covers draped over him. His chest was falling and rising softly and peacefully. Tony closed the distance and grabbed the kid’s hands. He peered at the inside of his wrists and saw that they were completely fine. No blade wounds that would cause him to bleed out and lay like a ragdoll in Tony's arms while he cried the hardest he'd ever cried.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter’s eyes fluttered open. “Whattya doin’ here?” he said sleepily. His eyes flicked to Tony’s trembling hands holding his. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Tony said breathlessly, dropping onto the bed. He sat down at the edge of it, looking at the wall. “Sorry . . .”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Peter assured, sitting up. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, I just . . .” Tony’s mouth went dry as the image of Peter in the bathtub surrounded by dark red water. He pressed his palms against his eyes and they came back wet.

“Did something happen?” Peter asked softly, curling his legs in to sit cross-legged.

Tony brought himself to nod.

“Was it . . .” Peter paused, “was it about _me?”_ He didn’t wait for the response. “Did you have a nightmare or something?”

“Yeah, kid,” Tony whispered, his voice breaking. “I just needed to see if you were okay.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Peter said, looking unsure as to whether or not he should touch Tony.

Tony nodded and focused on the trembling of his hands. The light from Peter’s open window glinted off the wet spots.

“You gonna tell me, um, what it was about?” Peter asked hopefully. “I mean, it’s sort of weird to just like burst in here and then not tell me.” He paused for a beat. “You don’t have to,” he said quickly. “But you’re like always telling me to talk about my problems and so I figured, you know, the same rules applied to you, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought maybe it would help.”

The image entered his head again and warm tears came to Tony's eyes. He tried to blink them back but didn’t succeed as a single tear rolled down his cheek. “It- it was about you,” Tony whispered, mentally cursing himself for stuttering. He sniffed and used his index finger to brush away the tear. “You . . . you . . .” He could not bring himself to say it, not with the vivid dream still present in his mind's eye.

“What did I do?” Peter asked in a quiet voice. Almost a whisper.

“Y-you did what Liz did,” Tony choked out, his voice cracking and two more tears slid down his cheeks.

“I would never do that,” Peter said quickly, grabbing Tony’s hand with his. “I promise you, that will never happen. Not while I have you in my life.”

A quick sob escaped Tony’s lips and he pulled the teenager in for a tight hug.

“It’s okay,” Peter said softly. “I’m okay.”

“Thank God you are,” Tony whispered, his voice hitching with sobs. He ran his hand through Peter’s curls again and again, reminding himself that Peter is alive. _He’s fine. He’ll never do that._

“If you don’t mind me asking, in your dream, what did I do it with?”

Tony tensed, but said, “A blade.”

“Like Hannah in _13 Reasons Why?”_ Peter inquired.

“Yeah.” Tony wondered for a second who the hell Hannah was.

“That must have sucked, I’m sorry.”

“It did suck,” Tony agreed. “Because I couldn’t do anything.” Tears were now coming at full force, as much as he told himself to stop.

“It’s okay,” Peter soothed. “I’m fine. It’s all good.”

"Th-the worst part was when I found you," Tony whispered. "It felt real, Peter, I really thought you were . . ." He trailed off as another sob echoed through the room. Tony stroked the kid’s hair. Usually in this scenario where someone had a goddamn awful night terror, Tony would be the one consoling Peter. When they finally broke free, Tony was the one with tears on his face and Peter held a soft expression. Peter bit his lip as he laid eyes on the older man’s tears.

"Tony, just know I'd never do that," Peter said gently. The hidden message in there was clear: _I'd never do that to **you.**_

"I'm glad, kid," Tony said, rubbing his hands along his under-eyes, taking tears with him.

“Do you want ice cream?” Peter asked and Tony let out a breathless chuckle. “That usually helps me. We can eat away our feelings.”

Tony smiled. “Sounds good.” _Sounds good as long as you're alive._

_And as long as you're with me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was SO SAD. Rrrrr. It was fun to write. 
> 
> Reviews of this story would be amazing <3


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